First Love
by TheBrokerAndThePathologist
Summary: It has been three days since Franky's release from prison, and Bridget and Franky are still trying to figure out how their relationship will grow now that they aren't closed in by teal walls anymore. One morning, Bridget unintentionally unveils one of Franky's insecurities. Franky Doyle does not make love, and most certainly does not let others make love to her - or does she?


Franky was cooped up in blissful sleep – a concept relatively new to her. Of course she slept in her prison cell for years and with her cell door closed, it was okay. She would doze for about four to six hours a night and luckily rarely ever dreamed. If she did, then they were most often nightmares, so she had grown accustomed to go without them. But now, outside of the prison, in an actual house, in a bed that was not mass-produced, but rather carefully constructed and picked out after thoughtful consideration by its owner from a store with many other available beds. The same goes for the bedding; they were washed with scented soap and hand ironed. They were made of a special kind of silk that felt both cool and warming against her skin and they had the inviting color of pastel green. It was anything but the prison necessary lackluster grey color or the dark red shades in every movie that just screamed sex to you. This bed was inviting to do exactly what it was created for and in it, Francesca Doyle did not 'just' sleep; she slumbered. She slumbered peacefully without a care in the world.

It had been three days since her release and she had only spent approximately two hours at her registered address in the halfway house. She filed her documentation and received a key. Franky had left the prison without any items but her old cell phone, her wallet and the clothes she had been wearing upon her incarceration. She left behind all her colorful underwear and books that she had bought herself during her stay at Wentworth prison, fully intending to make a new start in life and therefore ridding herself of everything that reminded herself of the former. Her fast steps outside the gates had led her into a car park, where she was looking ahead for the sign of a bus stop. When the honk of a car alerted her to turn her attention to the right, where she then noticed the gorgeous Bridget Westfall exit a sports car with the roof down in the parking lot, she knew that she had made the right decision to do so.

The three days had gone by much too quickly. Being around – and living with – the woman who she had not just fancied, but actually fallen in love with so deeply and unexpectedly, had the young brunette in a permanent state of butterflies in her stomach who made their presence known every time she looked at her. Her love, her object of desire, her now girlfriend. Though Franky had always had girls she called her own, she had never actually developed true feelings for them. Until now. She wanted way more than sex and some attention on her terms from Bridget. The possibilities suddenly seemed endless now and though it felt like Franky could weep for that unlimited joy in her heart and the deep passion that had rooted itself deep inside of her, it also depleted her energy unlike anything she ever knew before which was unrelated to any physical exertion.

Of course, all that pent up sexual chemistry and the frustration of not being able to act on it whenever they would have enjoyed to do it – they are two healthy adults, after all – had led to kissing sessions that lasted for hours, groping each other on the couch like they were young teenagers with hormones raging through their bodies and yes, sex. One would think that Franky's new freedom would have her exploring the great outdoors, sniffing the clean air and taking long walks in areas familiar and yet undiscovered by her. The exact opposite was true; they had barely left the house yet!

Franky did not know what was wrong with her, to be honest. She could have Gidget, now _her_ Gidge, in her arms and just look at her for hours. All the movies that they were supposedly watching together did not get through to her at all. She was too caught up in mapping Bridget's skin with her eyes. She studied every freckle, every single color of the birth marks that contrasted with her milky skin so beautifully, every curve and all the smooth surfaces; she wanted to discover them all. Franky would have laughed at herself five years ago, but right now she could not be more content being this romantic…moron.

Franky awoke when the body inside her arms stirred and turned itself around. The decision had been a simple one; Franky was taller than Bridget and therefore she got to be the big spoon, cradling Bridget against her in bed when it was time to rest up. It was not so much the shift of the pliant form against her as it was the sudden sensation of finger tips slowly trailing up and down her upper arms. Franky slowly started opening her eyes but closed them again when she felt a pair of the softest lips being pressed against her own, the blonde's hair falling to the side of both of their faces.

Franky broke the kiss when she felt Bridget trying to deepen it, by gently opening her mouth against hers. "Woah, Gidge! I haven't brushed my teeth yet!" Franky slowly opened her green eyes to be met with a pair of very awake blue ones. Fuck, this woman was so, so beautiful. She reached a hand up to lovingly stroke the psychologist's hair from one side to another, before cupping her face. Franky rubbed her thumbs against Bridget's cheeks. Her black nail polish showed just how rosy Bridget's cheeks were. Maybe she had not been awake all that long after all. "But good morning to you."

With a sly smile, Bridget moved her weight on top of the young brunette's. "I don't care," she answered in reply to Franky's defense before dipping her head down to kiss her once again. Franky instantly decided that she could not protest either anymore, following Bridget's movements and allowing her entrance to the depths of her mouth. Franky automatically arched her body against Bridget's as their kiss grew more heated and she spread her legs slightly, so that her girlfriend could rest her lower body more comfortably between them. This time, it was Bridget who ended the kiss. "I'm sorry for waking you, baby." But judging by the brunette's soft smile, all seemed to be forgiven and forgotten already. "It is ten already and we had not discussed if you wanted to do something or go somewhere today."

Franky looked at the woman on top of her, softly stroking the strip of exposed skin at the small of her girlfriend's back. "Well, it's your day off," Franky said, unable to stop smiling. "You pick what you would like to do." The dopamine levels in her blood just had to be fucking insane; she had no idea what was causing her to be touchy-feely. Is this what love was? She had never felt like this before and it secretly frightened her very much. If she fucked something up, she would not be able to shrug her shoulders with a sarcastic comment and move on like she did with all the others. Why was this different? What made Gidge so different?

The train of thoughts from the young former inmate was interrupted by the words of Bridget. "I can think of something we can do," she said, trailing one hand down Franky's side, "right here." Teasingly squeezing Franky's hip, Franky laughed before cupping Bridget's face in her hands.

"Do you, now?" She lifted her head off the pillow so that she could close the space between her lips and Bridget's once more. She could not get enough of the taste of the older woman and she doubted if she ever would. There were more than mere butterflies in her stomach; somehow a whole fucking zoo had managed to nestle inside of her body. Franky dropped her hands from Bridget's face so that she could slowly move them down her girlfriend's body, who in turn placed one of her own on Franky's pillow where she captured a strand of dark hair which she danced around her fingers while she rested the other against Franky's neck.

Bridget's fingertips softly grazed the pale skin of the brunette's jaw, whose breath suddenly caught in her throat. She felt how slowly one arm wrapped itself around her back, while the other one continued downwards even further until it rested just below her bottom. Realizing that Franky was getting ready to flip them over - which would certainly result in herself losing all her clothing again, Franky touching her into a release and then end with both of them falling back to sleep with Franky still clothed and mostly unsatisfied – Bridget broke the kiss and pulled herself out of Franky's grip. "Darling…"

Franky looked at her expectantly, surprised at the interruption. Of course, three days had been too short of a time for them to establish patterns in any area of life and life together, but Gidget usually did not 'just' stop anything she started. "Hm?" Franky looked around her and on the bed. "Oh fuck, did I hurt you?"

"No! No, you didn't. I um…," Bridget laid back against Franky, as a sign that she really was not in any discomfort. Quite the contrary, even! "I just…want to take care of you for a change, like the way that you have been taking such good care of me." The young woman stiffened underneath her for a fast second.

Franky hoped that the psychologist would just take that error for her bodily response while she was letting the neatly encrypted message sink in. "Ah. So after getting in my head, Gidge, you now want to get into my pants?" Franky tried to play it off with humor, folding her arms behind her head as she looked at the gorgeous lady resting atop of her lithe body with her trademark grin. The truth was that in any of her past relationships - regardless of its nature – she would only offer them one of these two. The women she slept with never got to learn what lay underneath her tough girl exterior. It went the other way around as well; the women Franky worked with would never land in her bed. Then along came Gidge, who changed – no, _is_ changing everything with her.

It had the desired effect in the sense that it made Bridget laugh out loud, but Franky knew that she could not be easily fooled. She was a psychologist, after all. And a damn good one at that. "I let you get into mine," Bridget truthfully stated, with the laughter still evident in her voice.

"Multiple times," Franky continued with that very same grin. Of course she knew that there would be a time when she would have to cut the excuses and just go with it. After all this time in prison added with the endless amount of foreplay since she was out, you would think that she was about to burst! And she was. But sex with Bridget could not be uncomplicated and that was all that Franky knew to have. Franky had loved spending all the extra time and attention to making her girlfriend feel good, but to be as emotionally vulnerable and uninhibited as Gidge allowed herself to be… Franky was not sure if she could do the same! The amount of pain and disappointment she could cause if she did not have enough faith in herself was unmeasurable and unpredictable. Not an hour had gone by in which Franky reminded herself to think of something.

Bridget bent her head down and lowered her face to Franky, pecking her on the lips. "Okay?" When she leaned back, Franky's teasing grin had changed to a small feigned smile.

"Yep." Her time had run out.

Bridget gave her one last smile before she sat up, drawing her legs up underneath herself for better leverage. She then leaned in for another kiss, while she gently shoved her hands underneath Franky's shoulders. She slightly pulled against Franky, expecting her to understand the sign to move her upper body upwards against Bridget's, but she did not. Instead, she was still lying on the bed like a limp rag doll. All initiative and Franky's usual eager engagement seemed to have disappeared. Something was off and Bridget sensed the change of atmosphere in the room as well as in her partner, who was now doing nothing but hesitantly returning her kisses. "Please come and sit up with me, baby." The tone in the psychologist's voice made the phrase sound more like a question than a request, but Franky complied immediately.

The young paralegal pushed herself upwards by pressing the palms of her hands into the mattress and Bridget's warm embrace that had automatically shifted to Franky's shoulder blades prevented her from falling back. Franky felt like an idiot and could not get herself to look at her lover. She sat there in her loose comfortable grey pajama pants and a light green sleep shirt with the words 'counting stars' in neon yellow letters across her chest. Her legs were still opened, with each one falling to Bridget's sides. Her hair was messy and she was not wearing make up. Franky was horribly unprepared. She quickly hugged Bridget back, pulling their bodies against each other and resting her head on her girlfriend's shoulder, just so she could express some affection without looking at her. She just could not do it.

The gorgeous blonde could not be fooled so easily. In the few seconds that it took Franky to sit up, she had seen her expression. The younger woman looked sad and almost frightened; all the flirtation and seduction which you would expect – and which she previously expressed – seemed to either not be present or dishonest. When Bridget decided to pull back a little so that she could take a thorough look at the former inmate, Franky's eyes were directed downwards, obviously trying to avoid hers. "Franky…," Bridget voiced calmly. "If you don't want to do this, we really don't have to."

"No, I do. I do want this," Franky said. Waiting was not going to help her; she would be equally as nervous in a week, month or even ten years. She might as well get into it now. "It's just been a long time." Well, that was an asshole excuse. Sex was like riding a bicycle; once you have figured out how to do it, you cannot unfigure it in. Besides, her job was now to mainly lay back and enjoy it. Just how hard could it be? Franky had sex more than a plenty of times with several different women, which was something that she used to not feel as insecure about as she did at right this moment. Yes, she had enjoyed sex in the past, although being emotionally detached to her 'partners' did make things less complicated. The meaning behind her tattoos? There was no need for them to know. The story of her childhood and the absence of a family? They did not even ask. But Gidge…

"Do you want to discuss a safe word? Just a word that, when you say it, will let me know I should stop?" Bridget had her hands placed on top of Franky's clad upper legs. Franky seemed to be aware more than ever that her current outfit was everything but sexy. Bridget was simply wearing a black tank top and some red panties that somehow looked really fantastic on her. Franky was so busy staring her girlfriend up and down that she almost forgot that she had been asked a question.

Franky pulled up an eyebrow, before she reached out to cup Bridget's cheeks. "What? Something really not hot, like 'cabbage'? 'Microwave'? 'Microwave cabbage'?" She silenced Bridget's chuckles by leaning in for a kiss. During their kiss, Franky's hands dropped from Bridget's face to her shoulders, exploring the softness of her skin right above her collar bone before trailing her nails down Bridget's arms, making her gasp against Franky's lips. Could she really not be persuaded to be flipped over anymore?

Bridget felt how goosebumps appeared all over her body and she noticed how something started to stir in the pit of her stomach. She knew exactly what was going on: Franky was trying to redirect the attention back to her. There really was something that was frightening her, but she somehow could not quite put the finger on them. She decided to keep Franky talking for now, in an attempt to off-track her mind. "If you microwave cabbage, baby… it will just go limp."

Franky shrugged her shoulders and made a face. "So? Is there anything that needs hardening here?" Franky smiled and unexpectedly moved her hands back to Bridget's shoulders and roughly pushed her backwards on the bed. The game had changed; now it was Bridget with her back onto the sheets and Franky flipped her knees backwards so that her hips were now resting between Bridget's thighs. While Bridget was still a little overwhelmed and trying to make sense of what had just happened, Franky leaned over, closing in to press soft butterfly kisses down Bridget's neck.

Feeling the skin of Franky's fingers slide underneath her tank top and coming into direct contact with the sensitive surface of her lower abdomen, Bridget reached out and grasped Franky's wrist, stopping the younger woman effectively in her tracks. "I thought we were going to focus on you this time."

"Why can't we do both?" Franky tried to tug her wrist out of the blonde's grip, but she was not letting go so easily.

"Because from my previous experience with you and your skills, you will most likely just leave me breathless and cloud my mind, to the point where I forget what I had been planning to do and then I will just drag you against me to fall asleep." Bridget answered, making Franky smile down at her mischievously. Bridget had no control over her muscles and she beamed right back at Franky. If this helped boost her self esteem a little bit, then they were now a hundred miles from that deer in the headlights look that surprised her earlier. Franky rarely expressed any fear. Whether it was her childhood or her experience in prison, she had somewhere accustomed herself to lash out if she felt threatened in any way. She had witnessed with her own eyes how Franky would immediately revert to attack when faced with danger, anger…or even someone expressing disappointment with her. Franky had come a long way, but she was still going to have to work on how to process pain differently than by putting up a wall and responding with a big mouth or her fists.

What a sharp contrast was that incarcerated Franky to the liberated Franky she now had in her bed! The young woman accepted Bridget's hold on her wrist as she angled her head down to softly peck the small strip of skin, which had become visible when the blonde's top rid up a little above the line of her panties during her and Franky's play for dominance. Bridget's insides felt like they were on fire and she completely lost her ability to breathe. She released Franky's wrist to run both of her hands through the brunette's hair instead, which were tickling her exposed stomach and her upper legs. "Franky…"

The former inmate loved the effect she was having on Bridget. Her voice had become raspy and her protests were dying down in the back of her throat. Franky added a little suction as she peppered the entire line of her girlfriend's abdomen with kisses, feeling how the woman's breathing quickened against her lips and she felt the fabric of her pajama pants rub the skin of her hips as Bridget writhed against her. "Franky!" Franky slid her fingers up her partner's side, hooking the fabric of her top around her thumbs. As she pushed the cloth up past Gidget's stomach and then past her chest, Franky trailed right behind it with her tongue, sometimes slowing down or latching on by sucking on random places on Bridget's upper body. Franky gently used her teeth to scrape her girlfriend's skin and to tease her a little more, knowing just how sensitive she was. "Franky, we made a deal!"

Franky finally stopped her torturous actions and withdrew her mouth from Bridget's chest. She slid her hands to her back; firmly pressing her girlfriend's body against her own as Franky brutally sat back up and dragged her along with her. Franky pulled back from her slightly, answering Bridget's soft smile with a playful one of her own. "You want to get me off, Gidge?" Franky released one arm from Bridget's back to place a hand on one of her thighs, earning herself a sharp intake of breath. She danced her fingertips down the insides of the psychologist's legs, which were now on each side of her body. "Then I'm going to need a visual. I want to feel your body pressed against mine." Franky cocked her head to the side a little, before closing the distance between them once more. Bridget let Franky kiss her again, surprised to discover that her frenzied movements were now making place for very sweet and slow presses of their lips against each other. Franky moved her hand from Bridget´s leg to lovingly rub her fingers to the side of her face. When Franky broke the kiss, she rested her forehead against her girlfriend's, just reveling in the feel of her Gidge against her body, in this place, in this bed, far away from that prison she once used to know. Bridget had her eyes closed while enveloping Franky in her arms, moving her hand across the taller woman's back ever so slightly. After a moment, Franky moved her head to lean against the side of her girlfriend's, her lips ever so close to her ear. "All of it."

She spoke in a whisper, causing goosebumps to appear all over Bridget's body for the umpteenth time in just three days. The psychologist pulled back slightly to search the younger woman's eyes. Even though Franky was smiling brightly at her, there was nothing to suggest that she was not being sincere with her or trying to redirect the attention away from herself. "Alright," Bridget agreed, carefully monitoring any changes to Franky's face or posture. "We can do whatever you like, baby, but the focus is on you first. Afterwards… I don't care what you do to me."

Franky chuckled and pulled Bridget back against her own body by grabbing a fistful of cloth from her top and yanking it gleefully. "I bet you can hardly wait." Bridget steadied herself against Franky's arm.

"Would it help you if I said I can't?"

Franky grinned cheekily before Bridget wrapped her arm around her neck to draw her in for a kiss. Franky pecked her a few times on the lip before capturing her bottom lip between her own, sucking on it very lightly before slowly releasing it. She was slightly taken aback when Bridget surprised her by responding with an open mouthed kiss, forcing her tongue in Franky's mouth and not allowing her any escape, because her hands were cupping both sides of her jaw with enough pressure to keep her there. Franky tightened her grip on the hem of Gidge's tank top, which she nearly forgot she was clutching. They were still kissing passionately when she pulled it up for as far as she managed without separating their lips from each other. When they had to separate for air for half a second, Franky took advantage of the situation by tugging it up and over her head, nearly tearing it in the process when Bridget didn't lift her arms fast enough.

Franky had seen her girlfriend naked several times in the past few days. She had to admit to herself that she had seen plenty of women naked in the past and therefore was not easily impressed or surprised. But Gidge, _her_ Gidge, was absolutely stunning. Being gay did not mean that she automatically believed that the bigger the boobs, the better. Bridget's breasts were in proportion to her slim form and her stomach was very toned. If Franky was given the option to adjust her girlfriend's body in any way possible, she would not change a single thing. After quickly glancing her over, Franky wrapped her arms around her partner's naked upper body and mashed her back against her own frame so that they could continue their kiss, where respiratory requirements had forced them to cut it off mere seconds ago. Even though Franky was still fully clothed, she could feel the warmth of Bridget's torso radiating against hers.

"Mm," Bridget hummed against Franky's lips to indicate that she wanted to say something. The brunette instantly responded by ending the kiss and pulling away with an expectant look on her face. With her hands she kept stroking Bridget's back in an attempt to keep her warm, the arousal making her completely oblivious to the knowledge that her hands were always cold. Always. "Darling, I think you are a little overdressed for the occasion."

Franky – like an idiot – looked down her dressed body before looking at Bridget's. The scorecard did seem to be a little uneven between them. Bridget had absolutely nothing left but that sexy red panties, yet she did not seem to be affected in any way. She was equally confident in her neat and formfitting working clothes than she was when wearing nothing at all. "Yeah, I guess I am." And very suddenly it all came back to Franky. She had been pleasantly distracted focusing all her attention on Gidge, but now it seemed to dawn on her again; what they had been doing and - more specifically - what it would be leading to.

She allowed Bridget to grab the border of her sexless sleep shirt before she weakly raised her arms above her head to allow Bridget to easily peal it off of her. Franky's nerves than returned full-blown and she tried to pull herself together before Gidge would notice anything, but by now there was a very obvious change in the air, which was palpable even to people who did not have specialized degrees in psychology. Franky folded her arms across her chest and looked to her right. Sadly, the curtains were still closed. Otherwise she could have pretended to be distracted by something she saw outside.

Bridget looked at the young brunette in front of her. There was a fragility to her now, which she had first attributed to her not wearing any make up. The anxious vibe that she had been getting earlier had returned. "Oh! There it was! I've been wondering where I left that thing," Bridget said, pulling at a side of a very flimsy khaki tank top of hers, which Franky apparently had been wearing underneath her shirt. It was overly baggy and obviously much too large for Franky's athletically thin form.

It was probably best to not ask too many questions and to keep the tone light and playful. There was evidently something plaguing her mind, which she herself was fighting very hard to cover up. She seemed very close to tears and if Bridget would sympathetically try to inquire or evaluate it, than this would be how she would remember the first time she made love to her. For the rest of their lives! Bridget did not want to screw this up for the both of them.

Franky straightened her shoulders in an attempt to make herself look broader than she actually was. A classic prison Tough Girl Franky move to give herself an attitude when she knew that her instinctive trait would not land herself in the desired outcome. "Yeah?" Franky turned her head back with a smile. "Who wears it better?"

Bridget wrapped her arms around the brunette's neck. Franky placed her hands on Bridget's naked sides and rested them there. "Well, that is not the issue at hand here, is it?" Franky playfully opened her mouth, ready to make a face, but before she could give her any more unwanted fuel for unwanted thought, Bridget pressed her lips against Franky's. When she saw her girlfriend close her eyes and relax into the kiss again, Bridget felt that they could continue. She briefly withdrew from the brunette's lips, but stayed close enough to feel her hot breath on her face and quickly pick up the kissing again. "The question is who looks better once it's been taken off…"

Frankly immediately drew her hands back and pulled out of Bridget's embrace. "I do not have to take it off. I mean, _we_ do not have to. We can just lower the straps," before Bridget could even process what was going on, Franky was pulling the first strap of the top down with the intention to shrug her arm out of it.

"Franky, I meant it as a joke…"

Franky shrugged her shoulders. "Yeah, I know, Gidge. I just meant that this way we could be quicker. I can keep the shirt on, but lower it far enough so you can see and touch what it's all about…"

Bridget was stunned. She obviously struck a very sensitive nerve and things were spiraling out of control way too fast even for her to grasp. "Franky, your breasts are not the only things I care to see!"

"It's fine, Gidge. Really! I mean, it's super easy and then I'll just shrug out of these pants—"

That is when realization suddenly struck Bridget. It was not about her joke or about what she cared to see. It was about the only things that Franky cared to reveal. Bridget stopped her by placing her hand on top of Franky's, just as she was about to lower her second strap. "Franky, look at me." A pair of very surprised green eyes met Bridget's blue and empathetic ones. "This is your 'microwave cabbage', isn't it?"

It all made sense now. She always believed that Franky locking the bathroom door as she showered was just a habit she had yet to shake. Bridget never questioned or urged her about it, because it made sense that a lock could be a sign of comfort to her, after having her privacy violated and invaded for years over and over again in prison. She had never seen Franky change clothes in front of her; something which she had attributed to coincidence. It had only been three days since her release, after all. Every time she attempted to initiate returning the favor of sex, Franky had always prompted her with excuses. 'It's alright; I can see that you're tired. Let's go to sleep.' 'No Gidge, we don't have time. I still have to check in with my parole officer and at the halfway house today and I haven't even showered yet. Don't come with me into the bathroom! You know that you'll just distract me!' 'I think I hear something. I'm not sure if it's outside or in! I'll go check.' Bridget could not believe how blind and dismissive she had been to Franky's obvious signs of keeping her at a distance. A physically visual one.

Franky's eyes had dropped down again. She did not reply. Bridget knew she was going to have to mend this now. Sex was probably out of the question, but either way, she needed to make Franky feel better again. Not as a psychologist, but as her girlfriend this time. "Back when you were still in prison, I told you I read your file. I told you I read up on your childhood and what you had been through. It's something you didn't want to discuss much and I accepted it." Franky sighed before looking back up at her. "But I do know. I know about your scars and the cigarette burns in barely visible places." Bridget paused, but Franky continued not to say anything. Bridget carefully moved Franky's hand off the tank top's strap and instead just proceeded to hold it inside her own. She extended her other hand between them, which Franky grasped, much to her surprise.

"I know you covered all your scars with tattoos. The ones that I can see are really beautiful! You… you have a really good taste! And if you ask me, it is a much healthier strategy of coping than drowning your sorrows in alcohol or drugs," Bridget admitted truthfully. Suddenly, Franky looked back up at her with a smile. Not a nervous one. Not a fake one. This was one of the classic, bright Franky Doyle beams that she had stupidly fallen so hard for. A career first and – simultaneously – a career last.

"You like my tats, do you?"

Bridget chuckled. "Yes, I do. And I'm looking forward to the day when you feel ready to show me what creations are hidden underneath one of my tops." Bridget squeezed Franky's hands supportively. "Come on. I'll go throw some clothes on. Maybe we can go and catch an afternoon movie or something. Or go out for lunch?"

Bridget had already shifted her weight and gotten off the bed with one foot, when she felt one arm snake itself around her naked waist and another hand grasping for her elbow, tugging her back onto the bed. "Gidge, where the fuck do you think you're going? You promised me something!"

The blonde sat back down in front of her girlfriend, who was sitting on her lower legs, still sporting that gorgeous smile. Bridget looked at her questioningly, searching the front and back of her mind for that lost memory. "What did I promise you?"

Franky widened her eyes and opened her mouth in a feigned shock. Bridget could read her well enough by now to tell that she was amused more than anything else. "An orgasm! Jesus!"

"Oh… that promise," Bridget trailed off. Franky threw her hands up in the air before dropping them back down on the bed. "I didn't think you'd be interested in that anymore, right now."

"Well, I am!" Franky said, tugging at her girlfriend so that she was forced to pull her legs back onto the bed. Franky brushed her hair back over her shoulder, before leaning in to her, kissing her way from the gorgeous blonde's neck, all the way up to her lips. She could tell that Bridget was unsure about this and whether the timing was accurate enough for this activity to take place. Franky placed her hands on both of Bridget's cheeks, brushing them lovingly with her thumbs and forcing her to see that the playful and passionate spark in her eyes was there, fully alight. "Work to do, Gidge!"

"Franky—," Bridget wanted to argue whether now was really the right day and hour. Doing things of this sensitive matter under pressure could have devastating effects. Devastating _lasting_ effects. But the young brunette pulled her in for one of their many passionate kisses and they were definitely encouraging her; effectively transferring all her protests from her current train of thoughts.

Franky broke the kiss and looked at her questioningly. "Do you still want to do this?"

Bridget could tell from the seriousness in her voice and the questioning look gracing all of her features that Franky would never make her do something that she was not ready for. As for Franky's own previous doubts… well, she was doing a pretty good job in convincing Gidge that they never truly existed in the first place. Of course they did though and Bridget made a definite mental note to discuss this at a later time. "Yes."

"Alright then…" Franky shifted so that she now sat back on her bottom, opening her legs so that her girl could rest herself between them again, if she wanted to. To get the one big, major elephant out of the room, Franky crossed her arms in front of her and grabbed the hem of her – no, Gidge's shirt, before dragging it up and over her head. It had been a very flimsy, oversized thing and she had no idea what this offending article was doing in Gidge's closet, but the extra layer had been comforting to her. However, right now she only wanted to discard it as quickly as possible. She slowly looked up at her girlfriend, expecting her to be studying every scar and every burn mark that had damaged her beauty, but she was not. The large cherry blossom tattoo lined her entire left side from her hip to her chest, branching out across her entire stomach. Franky had it applied very thoughtfully over a decade ago. The brown of the branches covered up the scars of cuts and other marks that had once left odd, thin, peach colored lines across her pale white skin. The round burn marks were masked with blossoming pink flowers. The tattoo artist had been a very decent and expensive one, which Franky had carefully selected after much thought and consideration. If you did not know that there had been scars underneath, you would not be able to tell.

But instead of being studied, she just met Bridget's loving eyes. "You're beautiful, Franky," she said, before closing that darned gap again that kept popping up between their lips. And for the first time in probably her entire life, Franky truly believed it.

Her breath caught in her throat as she felt Bridget's hands gently skim the uneven skin hidden under the delicate artwork. The blonde took her time mapping out every bump, every line, and every patch of rough tissue. Franky felt her fingertips carefully follow the branches of the sakura tree with extreme precision, taking in every small curve in the design. The kiss was tender, and filled with love. Franky was not sure she had ever felt this amount of love flooding her being before.

"So beautiful," Bridget confirmed again, whispering now. She peppered soft kisses along Franky's jawline, nuzzling her neck as her hands moved to grasp her hips a little more firmly. She slid her palms upwards along her sides until she reached Franky's sensitive breasts. Feeling Gidget's palms tenderly caress her chest, Franky pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, biting back a soft moan. Bridget moved her head down Franky's torso until she could capture a nipple between her lips and sucked gently on the hardened peak. Franky gasped at the sensation. Very quickly though she realized she missed being able to look into Bridget's eyes. She felt an instinctive need to see those bright blue irises. She pulled on the blonde's shoulders, guiding her back up to face her. The younger woman smiled when Bridget's face came into view. Her hair was tousled; her cheeks were flushed. She was stunning. Chuckling, she pressed her lips against the psychologist's, letting the tip of her tongue touch the other woman's lips.

Bridget's fingers skimmed the waistband of Franky's pajama pants as the kiss became heated. Breaking the contact for just a second, she panted: "Let's get these off of you," before closing the distance between their lips again. Grinning against the brunette's lips, she pushed the soft grey fabric past her hips, taking her panties down with it. Franky felt a shiver run down her spine, leaving a pleasant tingling in her limbs in its wake. "Cold?" Bridget asked.

"Nah." Franky used the momentary distraction to grasp the red briefs covering Bridget's bum and slid them down her toned legs, causing the other woman to gasp at the sudden action. "That's better," Franky stated with the tip of her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth.

Bridget let out a deep giggle that resonated through her chest. "You're beautiful," she repeated again, and Franky felt her cheeks turn heated at the compliment. She had been called many things in her life: hot, sexy, steamy, seductive and erotic; beautiful was not one of them. The word sounded delightful as it was formed by the blonde's lips and tongue. Then again, she mused, she could listen to Bridget talk for hours without getting bored.

The feeling of Bridget's fingertips grazing the inside of her thigh disrupted her train of thought. Franky let her head fall back onto her pillow, squirming slightly under the teasing ministrations. She felt the other woman sprinkle soft kisses across her breasts, every now and then flicking her tongue against her hyper-sensitive nipples. Bridget was very quickly turning Franky's brain into a useless collection of neurons. All she could think about was the feeling of the blonde's fingers, lips and tongue caressing her skin.

Suddenly Bridget let a single finger slip between Franky's folds, gently dragging it upwards through the wetness that had gathered there, and circled her clit. Franky whimpered quietly at the unforeseen stimulation. The psychologist kissed along her jawline as she continued massaging the tissue surrounding her swollen clit.

"Fuck, Gidge," Franky breathed. Smirking, Bridget rose to face Franky and replied: "Yes, baby?" The younger woman was just able to utter: "Don't you dare stop," before a confident flick of her girlfriend's index finger against her entrance turned the last word into a soundless gasp.

"I wasn't planning to," the blonde murmured into her ear, biting down on the soft tissue of her earlobe prior to gently sucking on it to soothe the irritated skin. All Franky could do in response was let out a groan – Bridget's manipulations of her body had rendered her speechless. That did not occur often. In fact, she did not think that any of her past sexual partners had ever managed to completely enrapture her in the way that Bridget did. This was more than just the road to an orgasm. She was not sure how to classify it, but it was definitely different from anything she had ever experienced.

Franky felt one of Bridget's fingertips press against her entrance, before pushing inside of her ever so slightly.

"Fuck, Gidge," she breathed. Bridget silenced her with an open-mouthed kiss. Before she could even register what was happening, the blonde added a second finger and thrust gently. Bloody hell, the woman knew what she was doing. It felt amazing, feeling the pressure against her walls, knowing it was Gidget, her Gidge, doing this to her, for her, with her. She had seen all of Franky: her scars, her crimes, her demons, and she still did not hate her. In the contrary, it only seemed to strengthen their bond.

"Tell me what you need, baby." Bridget's raspy alto voice travelled through Franky's bones, warming her body. "Can I taste you?" Franky nodded, looking at her girlfriend through half-lidded eyes. She felt Bridget kiss her way down her breasts and abdomen, nipping gently at any skin she could get to, never stopping the movement of her fingers inside of her. The moment she felt the psychologist's tongue push against her clit, she could not hold back a moan at the sensations. Bridget licked and sucked enthusiastically, humming softly. She shifted between Franky's legs, changing the angle of her fingers so she was stimulating her front wall. The brunette bit down on her bottom lip. Bridget was driving her insane, she was sure of it. She felt the tension in her body increase exponentially, like a coil winding up in her lower belly.

"So close," she managed to exclaim, the words barely more than a breath. Bridget chuckled against her swollen folds, curling her fingers to rub against the rougher patch of flesh she encountered there. Franky grunted. She was so close to her release that she could not keep silent. Hell, she did not care whether she was silent. All she cared about were the delicious effects Bridget was having on her body.

Bridget reconnected her tongue with Franky's clit, increasing the speed of her fingers. Franky could feel the tension inside her body increase further than she thought was possible. Suddenly, the psychologist hit just the right spot. Franky's body went rigid as her muscles tensed and a high-pitched moan left her throat. Her insides contracted rhythmically around Bridget's fingers as she continued to thrust them inside her, gently guiding her through her climax. Franky's breath came in loud pants, while her hands scrambled to grasp Bridget's shoulders, trying to get her to come back up to face her. She felt movement against her front, and opened her eyes to see bright blue eyes beaming at her. Pulling the blonde against her, she kissed her roughly while riding out the last waves of her slowly subsiding orgasm.

When she finally managed to catch her breath again, she mumbled: "Bloody hell, Gidge." Bridget only chuckled in response and let herself slide off of Franky's body, snuggling into her side. Franky raised her eyebrows at her. "What do you think you're doing?" The blonde innocently replied: "Cuddling?" Grinning mischievously, Franky swiftly flipped them around until she was on top of Bridget.

"What the…?" Bridget exclaimed in surprise. Franky smirked.

"You said I could do anything I wanted to you." The blonde's mouth fell open slightly. Taking advantage of her current stunned state, Franky bent down to capture Bridget's mouth in a frenzied kiss, pushing her tongue against the other woman's. Bridget let out a moan that vibrated through her chest. The psychologist was uninhibited and vocal in the bedroom, and Franky absolutely loved it. She adored hearing the moans, groans and gasps that her girlfriend let out, telling her exactly what she was doing to her. She moved her hands to the elastic of Bridget's panties, letting her fingers press down on the damp fabric covering her core. The underwear was completely soaked through. "Jesus, Gidget," Franky mumbled at the realization of the effect this morning was having on Bridget. She took a second to observe the blonde while she continued touching her through the thin layer of fabric. Her chest was heaving and flushed, her gorgeous breasts moving with each breath; nipples hardened and her eyes were closed, her head thrown back at the sensations. She was fucking stunning. Franky did not know what she had done to deserve this woman, but she sure as hell was grateful for her.

"Please, Franky," Bridget softly pleaded. Increasing the pressure on Bridget's folds through her panties, Franky asked: "Please what?" in response. The older woman let out a gasp.

"I...ah...please…" Franky took pity on the writhing woman underneath her. She moved her hands to Bridget's bum and helped her lift up so she could slide the red fabric off of her. The panties landed somewhere on the floor. The brunette slithered down Bridget's body until she encountered her wet, swollen folds. Pressing a kiss just above the place where Bridget wanted and needed her the most, she guided a pillow underneath the blonde's hips, angling her just right. She could sense Bridget's muscles tensing in anticipation.

"Relax, Gidge," she whispered against the psychologist's thigh before carefully pushing her tongue between her folds. She could hear her girlfriend inhale sharply at the contact. Lapping lightly, she felt Bridget's thighs tremble slightly. One of her hands made it into Franky's hair, gently keeping her exactly where she was. As if she wanted to move away before seeing, hearing and feeling her climax, Franky thought to herself. No fucking way.

Moving her tongue to focus solely on Bridget's clit, Franky slipped her index finger between her folds and entered her agonizingly slowly. The blonde let out a long, loud moan at the sudden fullness. The younger woman thrust slowly, retracting her digit until she nearly exited her, only to slide back in again. Bridget's flesh was warm, wet and swollen around her. She could hear the hitch in her breath that she had come to recognize as the telltale sign that her Gidge was close to her orgasm. Breaking the contact for just a second, she asked: "Can you take one more, babe?" Bridget managed to vocalize a breathy: "Please." She was so fucking sexy when she was squirming and thrashing underneath her. Franky slipped her finger out of her girl and re-entered her with two digits. She could feel the tension start to increase in the blonde's body. Bridget was so close, and she was determined to throw her over the edge. She scissored her fingers, reveling in the feeling of Bridget's satiny, muscular walls around them. Continuing to thrust into her entrance, Franky positioned her lips around the blonde's swollen clit and sucked gently.

Suddenly, Bridget's thighs clamped down around Franky's head and she gasped loudly. The brunette could feel the contractions pulsing around her digits and against her lips and tongue, accompanied by a slight increase of the wetness lubricating the supple skin. She continued sucking, kissing and thrusting until Bridget's body finally went limp and her grasp on Franky's head loosened. Wiping her mouth on the back of her hand, Franky crawled back up Bridget's torso, grinning at the sight of the completely spent psychologist lying against the pillow. She helped her get the pillow out from under her over-sensitive body and guided her to curl up against her taller frame, while the blonde attempted to catch her breath.

Franky chuckled as she wrapped an arm around Gidge's waist and pulled her naked body against her own. She felt how her girlfriend's chest was quickly extending and distending as her breathing was still ragged, rubbing her skin unintentionally against the young brunette's, who just gently rubbed her fingertips in small soothing circles on Bridget's back. Franky could not stop smiling at the beautiful woman in front of her, feeling all of her skin against her, just like she wanted. One of Bridget's hands rested on the paralegal's ribcage and with her other hand she gently brushed some dark strands from her beautiful lover's face. Their eyes connected automatically. "Are you okay?"

Bridget nodded lovingly. "Yes," she spoke before capturing Franky's head in her hands, both of them cupping her cheeks, before drawing her in for a quick peck on the lips. "Yes, I am fantastic right now." They kissed again and when Bridget felt how Franky's lips were curved up in a mischievous smile against her own, she opened her mouth and deepened the kiss unexpectedly. The brunette gasped in surprise, but she gave back as good as she got, mashing her body against the psychologist's to let her feel every curve. When they broke the kiss, Bridget was still cradling Franky's head and she searched the sparkling green eyes for any emotions that she was refusing to express in words. "How are you, baby?"

The brunette nodded a few times, before trailing her fingertips down her girlfriend's sides, making her shiver. She playfully nipped at Gidge's bottom lip. "Maybe…" She whispered and then kissed her way from Bridget's lips, down her neck and to her collar bone, where she traced her entire clavicle with a few wet kisses. "…we can just stay in bed today, turn our phones off…" Franky wanted to move down Bridget's chest, teasing her with her tongue, but she felt Bridget pull at her shoulders.

"Franky? Franky, look at me baby," Bridget knew that if she just let Franky have her way with her (again), a conversation would not be possible anymore really, _really_ soon. The young brunette looked up at her with a very playful glint in her eye. "Come on. Come here." The psychologist pulled her girlfriend up to her face by sliding her hands underneath the girl's armpits and gently tugging her back up. Franky obliged and slowly slid herself up, making sure to tease her Gidget by grazing her skin with hers as she did so. Franky obviously wanted to lie atop of her, so Bridget opened her legs slightly so that Franky could rest her hips between them.

"What do you want me to do, Gidge?" She smiled, teasingly buckling her hips against Bridget's, earning her a loud gasp.

"I just…," Bridget reached below her body to hold Franky still against her and to get the brunette's attention up to her face. "I want you to answer my question."

Franky's smile faltered immediately. "Yeah, I'm fine! Why wouldn't I be?" Bridget was not sure if she was acting so clueless on purpose or if she genuinely did not understand the importance of that question. Knowing that Franky had a history of abuse, she possibly was just not used to anyone – including her partners – caring about her wellbeing. It was hard for Franky to talk about herself and even during their counseling sessions, she would try her hardest not to have to discuss herself.

"Because you bared yourself to me, baby. It must have been hard for you to trust me, because I have the knowledge of what lies underneath your tattoos." Franky's eyes fell before she pushed herself off Gidge's body and dropped back on her side of the bed, drawing the covers up and over her body. "But you have nothing to worry about, darling! You're beautiful! And I mean that!"

Franky laid her head back against her pillow and stared up at the ceiling as she thought for a couple of seconds. "No, it was good. It was all—" She stopped talking when she felt Gidge's warm body flatten itself against her side, as the blonde propped herself up on one elbow and resting the other arm across Franky's upper body. Her girlfriend felt delightfully snug against her body. When Franky looked up at her face, she saw a mixed expression of concern and affection. "I just reckon that…"

And that is when the waterworks started. Franky felt her eyes well up with tears and she shielded them by covering her face with her lower arm. Way to ruin to mood, Franky! It had been so good and they both had a lot of fun with each other, but here she was now; bawling her eyes out in her girlfriend's bed, right after making loving. This kind of shit only happened in movies, when the virgin finally gets fucked near the end of the film! And it also happened to Franky Doyle, apparently.

She felt Bridget shift next to her and Franky expected her to get out of the bed to get some tissues or something, but instead she sat up straighter and gathered the brunette in her safe arms, kissing the top of her head. "It's alright, baby. It's okay." As Franky tried to gather the courage to say what was really troubling her, Bridget just held her. Her chest was still slightly sweaty from the straining activity they just enjoyed, but neither of them cared.

Franky wiped the tears way with the palm of her hand and pulled away from Bridget's arms. "This is new to me. I never felt like this before and it scares the fuck out of me." Gidget just continued to look at her empathetically, placing one hand on Franky's thigh, gently stroking her skin as a sign of support and urging her on to open up. Baby steps. Franky was going to have to determine the pace. She knew that Franky was not just referring to sex; she had always been very open, upfront and honest about her sexuality. "I think – No, I guess, because I don't have a clue. I must love you or something. At the very least I am _in_ love with you." Franky shrugged her shoulders and continued to furiously wipe the teardrops away. "I'm not usually like this, Gidge!"

Bridget smiled lovingly. "I know."

Franky laughed through a sob. "I'm a dickhead, huh?" She sat up straighter as well, scooting over so that her side was leaning into Bridget's. "We just had sex and then I start crying. To a therapist none the less!" Oh, the irony.

Even Bridget had to chuckle. "Well, I'm not your therapist _now_. And it wasn't just sex; we made love."

And now Franky had to laugh as well, after making a face. "We'd make Freud so proud. Then it all comes down to me not really wanting to confess my love to you, but to my mother instead."

"And what does that make me, then?" Bridget said with an amused smile.

"Considering that you just got me off and I experience feelings for you, then that makes you my mother, obviously!" They laughed for a short moment before Franky reached up and pulled Bridget in for a kiss. And another one. And another one. "I love you. That's got to be it." Bridget just looked at Franky while the young brunette smiled nervously. "I'm sorry, Gidge! I'm very new to romance. I've never felt like this at all. I feel like I'm not in control!"

"I know," she replied, still looking into Franky's eyes. "And that's okay! We both have to adjust to this. To us. I usually don't have my clients move in with me either." Bridget smiled.

Franky responded with a grin. "So love turns people into idiots." She cocked her head to the side. "Is that it?"

"Partly, at the very least," Bridget nodded. Franky looked better. She had stopped crying and right now, she could feel the tension building between them all over again. Franky's lips were mere centimeters away from her own and Bridget pulled the young woman towards her by wrapping her arms around her shoulders. "But doesn't it feel amazing?"

Franky broke the kiss and had a doubtful expression on her face. "Yes. Yes, it does." She stopped talking for a while as she collected her thoughts. "Don't get me wrong, Gidge, I love being in love with you. I love the way my body responds when I see you. I love how I cannot seem to get enough of watching you or touching you… but what if we get bored of each other? What if you have to go somewhere and I can't follow you because my parole officer won't let me?"

The psychologist saw right through her. Franky Doyle had never had any sort of relationship that lasted. Not with her family, not with her foster parents and her previous relationships or bed partners did not stick around too long with her either. Now that her heart was opened, she would not know how to survive if she had to close it off again. "I think that what you're trying to tell me is that you wouldn't know how to move on if we were to break up, right?" Bridget asked, but Franky did not respond except for her eyes looking down at the bedding she was sitting on. "Listen…," she started, before she pulled Franky flush against her. They were both naked and their bodies were hot against each other, but Franky was not complaining either. "I'm not leaving, yeah?" Franky nodded silently. "Are you?"

The brunette leaned in for another kiss, but when Bridget tried to meet her halfway, Franky took full advantage of the situation by pressing her girlfriend against her tightly as she flipped them over again, effectively pinning Bridget underneath her.

"Franky!"

"What?" She asked in a feigned innocent voice. "I love you. Or I'm in love with you. I'm just responding to what my body tells me to do!" Franky scooted downwards to place the softest and most frustrating butterfly kisses on her girlfriend's abdomen. "You know the safe word if you ever need me to stop," she reminded Bridget, knowing that she would never ever stop her anyway. "And no, this is where I want to stay forever. Right here, with you."


End file.
